Page 92 of A Tower of Half-Truths
“Your wine, madam,” the bartender said.
She nodded in thanks as she took her glass. By the time she entered the back room, her heartbeat had returned to normal.
Most of the assistants were too busy gossiping to notice Mavery. Wren, however, had fallen silent. She stared at her empty tankard with a blank expression, much like how Alain had looked that afternoon. Mavery then recalled what Wren had told her only days ago.
She would bet a hefty sum that the ill-fated research trip had been exactly a year ago. She’d even wager that today marked the anniversary of their colleague’s death. How had she not made that connection sooner?
“Over here,” Selemin called out, patting the empty chair totheir right. As she doubted Wren was in any state to reminisce about the Innominate Temple, Mavery approached the professors’ table.
“As you can see,” Selemin said as Mavery sat down, “I’m the odd one out in this little drinking club.”
“This is asupport group,” Nezima said, using the same tone she’d used when reprimanding her students. “And it is open to any scholarnotof the male persuasion.”
Drinking club,Selemin mouthed, then threw Mavery a wink before taking a swig of ale.
“It’s good to see you again, Mavery,” Nezima said.
“Likewise, and thanks for the drink.”
“Think nothing of it.” She gestured at the other two professors. “Have you met our colleagues?”
“I’m Rivalda,” the raven-haired woman said, extending her hand. “Professor of Aumbremancy.”
Mavery could have guessed this professor’s innate School with ease. Rivalda had the ashen look of someone who, like most shadow-wielders, preferred to avoid sunlight whenever possible.
The woman sitting beside Nezima reached across the table and also offered Mavery a handshake. She was not only the oldest among the group, with her white hair and liver-spotted skin, there was a sagacity behind her crystal blue eyes that the other scholars lacked.
“Corenta, Dean of the Faculty of Faisancy,” she said. “I’ve been at the University of Leyport longer than most of them have been alive.” She inclined her head toward the assistants’ table. “Rumor around campus is you’re a Senser.”
Mavery nodded. “The rumors are true.”
“And Aventus’s latest project is to develop some sort of Sensing spell,” Nezima said.
News did indeed spread quickly at the University. Mavery took a long drink of wine. She wasn’t sure how much of his research Alain would want shared publicly, but she could safely assume he’d want none of it shared with Nezima.
“I’ve been wondering, how did you and Aventus begin working together in the first place?” Nezima asked. “After all, no onefrom the University had seen him for the better part of a year.”
In hindsight, this was a question Mavery should have seen coming, and one that she and Alain should have prepared an answer for. She took another sip of wine as she formulated a response that was as truthful as it was vague.
“I came to Leyport almost two months ago, looking for work, and we crossed paths. Once he found out I was a Senser, he got the idea for the spell and decided to take me on as his assistant. It was…serendipitous, I suppose.”
“Quite serendipitous, considering assistants don’t typically need to go about ‘looking for work.’ ” Nezima peered at Mavery over the rim of her wineglass. “You told me you were in the midst of a career change. What were you doing before you came to Leyport?”
“Wardsmithing,” Mavery said. It was also a job for “unlearned types,” to borrow Alain’s phrasing, but at least it carried a bit more prestige than wardbreaking.
Nezima gave an amenable nod, then appeared to ready another question.
“Can I askyousomething?” Mavery said, eager to turn this interview around.
Nezima’s lips drew into a thin line. “That depends. Is it about my heritage?”
Mavery blinked. “Do people often lead with that?”
“More than you can imagine,” Corenta said.
“Some can’t fathom the idea of a Nilandoren who isn’t absurdly tall,” Selemin said, shaking their head.
“Those are often the same people who can’t place Nilandor on a map,” Rivalda added.
